


Good Luck Kisses

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Absolutely fluffy, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Christmas Fluff, Community: dhr_advent, F/M, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Quidditch, Seriously it's all fluff, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: A good luck kiss for a Quidditch captain - it's ridiculous. It can't actually work.But it does.Every time.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 200
Kudos: 1219
Collections: Best of DMHG, D/Hr Advent 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For D/Hr's Advent's tenth anniversary! My prompts were 'scarves' and 'sleigh'. And as per usual, I wandered well off course with it. XD
> 
> This fic was a lot of fun to write, and it is sheer unadulterated fluff. I wanted soft, sweet, Hallmark teen romance, and that's what I set out to write.
> 
> Massive amounts of thanks go to Dralamy, whose art inspired this fic. Four of her pieces are included in the chapters, with her permission.

Hermione watched the captains of the Quidditch teams - Draco Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Roger Davies, and Cedric Diggory - as they gathered at the foot of the Slytherin table. She rolled her eyes and filled her glass with a second round of pumpkin juice. "I can't believe this. Not surprised McLaggen's going for it, but I thought Davies had more sense."

"Come on, Hermione," Lavender said, holding a small mirror up to retouch her lip gloss. "It's all in good fun. And you know the girls who put their names in do it because they want to."

"It's ridiculous and antiquated."

"It's _tradition_. Each captain gets a good luck kiss from another house. It doesn't even have to be much of a kiss. I don't see why you're so fussed about it. It's not as if you put your name in. Let us girls who want to play have our fun. I'm hoping for Cedric but I'll take Roger, too." 

Blaise Zabini climbed up to stand atop the table and Lavender squealed, nudging Hermione's shoulder. "Look, they're starting!" 

Blaise held a glass jar high over the table. "And the young woman who will be giving one of our captains the first good luck kiss of the season is—" He tapped the jar with his wand and caught the slip of parchment that fluttered out, setting the jar down to read the name. "This is a joke, right?"

Draco, mid-stretch, paused and looked up. "What, some firstie slip her name in? Toss it, you know the rules. Year eights only."

Blaise turned the parchment around, looked at the blank back, read the front again, and climbed off the table to hold the parchment in front of Draco's eyes.

"You're fucking with me," Draco said.

"Five points from Slytherin for language," Hermione said automatically. All four of the captains turned to stare at her.

"Granger," Draco said, snatching the slip from Blaise to stomp over to the Gryffindor table. He shook the parchment at her. "What is this?"

"It appears to be something for this foolish game," Hermione said. "Though it could be an octopus. Or perhaps a safety pin. They're easy to confuse."

Draco narrowed his eyes and took a closer step. He held the slip in both hands so the writing was facing her.

_Hermione Granger_

"No," she said.

Cormac stepped up, nudging Draco to one side.

"No fuss, no fuss, I'll handle this. Granger," he said with an oily smile. "Rules are you're supposed to kiss someone from a different house, but I'll save you from that. The other blokes won't mind an exception this round."

Hermione folded her arms and stared at him. "Very funny," she said.

Cormac blinked, both hands wide, his face a picture of innocence. "Don't know what you—"

"You've been trying to get my attention since term started," Hermione said. "Following me around, standing behind me all the time, 'mysteriously' ending up in the library when I'm studying, 'accidentally' being in the corridor outside the prefect's bath when I'm in there. I _thought_ I made it clear I wasn't interested."

The color in Cormac's cheeks started to rise. A few snickers floated up in the silence spreading around them as more and more students paid attention to the show. "Now, look," Cormac said.

Hermione stood up, smoothing her hands down the front of her jumper as she walked around the table. "What did you think was going to happen? That I'd be so grateful you leapt in to selflessly rescue me from one of the other three that I wouldn't suspect for a moment that _you_ were behind this?"

Cormac ground his teeth, his eyes narrowing. "It's just a bit of fun," he said. "You could loosen up."

Hermione lifted her chin. "I'd kiss a toad before I'd kiss you. I'd kiss the squid before I'd kiss you. I'd kiss the Bloody Baron before I'd kiss you."

"Now, hang on—" Cormac cut off with a growl when Draco burst out laughing. "You got a problem, Malfoy?"

Draco moved up beside Hermione. "If that's not clear enough, I don't know what is. She didn't put her name in, McLaggen. She's not part of the game and she's not going to kiss anyone. Back off, have Zabini draw another name, and let her go." 

Hermione, staring at Cormac with her jaw clenched, shifted her eyes to Draco. "I didn't say I wouldn't kiss _someone_ ," she said.

The air suddenly seemed heavy, as if everyone watching had held their breath at the same time. Hermione plucked at her jumper sleeve, feeling the weight of the stares, but took a step closer to Draco. "Rules are rules," she said in her prissiest voice. "And my name came out of the jar. Good luck kiss for a captain, right?"

Draco lifted one pale brow, looking down at her. "That's ... the general idea, yes."

"Then I'll kiss a captain."

Draco turned to look at Roger and Cedric, but Hermione put her finger on the knot of his tie. He went still, his throat moving over his collar as he swallowed. He slowly turned back to look at her. "You don't—"

"I'll do it," she said. "I'll kiss a captain. My choice." She glared past Draco at Cormac. "And it's _not_ going to be him."

Clapping both hands around Draco's nape, she dragged him down and shoved her lips against his. The slant of her mouth was off, her neck hurt from craning back for his height, and she was leaning at an awkward angle. It was all wrong. It was a terrible kiss.

Then Draco made a quiet growling noise, locked both arms around her, and tugged her close. His head tipped, his mouth shifted, and—

Oh, she thought as her heart stuttered. Oh, that was—yes. Much, much better.

Hermione pushed up onto her toes, one hand sliding into Draco's hair, the other dragging down to rest on his shoulder. He spread his hands across her back, made that soft little noise again, and pressed harder against her mouth. 

Hermione forgot to breathe. Even through her robes, jumper, and shirt, she could feel the weight of Draco's hands on her back, the slow movements of his fingers as they flexed and kneaded along her spine. His hair was soft, his chest was solid, and his mouth was hot against hers.

His lips parted, the point of his tongue brushing her mouth, and Hermione jerked back. She stared at him, his grey eyes turned dark, his pale skin flushed pink. Sound rushed in, filling the world that had been nothing but her heartbeat and the quiet noises he'd made. Hermione heard whistles, stomping, and cheering.

She couldn't look away from Draco's eyes. She stood there, watching him with her fingers against her mouth, until Draco licked his lips and cleared his throat. "That ought to do it," he muttered, his voice rough.

Hermione squeaked. She backed up, squeaked again, and fled the hall.

* * *

  
Art by Dralamy, posted with permission: [Original post](https://dralamys.tumblr.com/post/190114583485/dramione-2020-back-to-basics-fanart-kiss)


	2. Chapter 2

As the team crossed the courtyard, heading for the pitch to warm up, Draco spotted Hermione under a tree. Reading, naturally, books scattered around her where she sat cross-legged.

"Go on, I'll catch up," Draco told Blaise. He split away from the team, ignoring the whoops and whistles behind him.

"Granger," he said as he stopped a broom-length away from her. "I, er. I don't actually believe in the whole good luck kiss thing. But on the off chance that it has any truth to it, thanks."

She looked up, blinked several times, and knotted her brows. "What?"

Draco slung his broom over his shoulders, arms draped along the length of it. "McLaggen got injured and Gryff had to cancel the scrimmage match so we played the 'puffs instead. We won, which I honestly wasn't expecting because their Keeper's a beast this year. Maybe they weren't prepared to play, maybe the new tactics we're trying are effective. Whatever it was, we took them out by over a hundred points and I got the Snitch. Not that it counts toward the cup, since it's practice, but, er." 

He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "We're against the 'claws today. Don't suppose—"

She put a tasseled bookmark in her textbook, closed it gently, and set it aside. "You want another one?" she said, tugging her skirt hem down over her knees.

Lowering his broom to rest the bristles on the ground, Draco folded his arms around it and leaned his cheek against the shaft. "I don't believe in it," he said again. "But couldn't hurt, right?"

Hermione set her hands on her calves and looked up at him. "The book I was reading," she said, "has been missing from the Hogwarts library for over sixty years. Madam Pince couldn't find it, no matter what she did. Searching for it didn't work; Summoning it didn't work. Nothing. But one hour after I kissed you, I walked into an unused classroom in the Arithmancy corridor, and there it was. So _something_ happened to produce that book as well as give you the win. I don't believe it was _really_ the kiss either, but one more couldn't hurt." She crooked her finger at him. 

Draco didn't move, not understanding what she wanted, then Hermione huffed and pointed to the ground in front of her. "You're too tall," she said. "And I'm comfortable. I'm not getting up for this. If you want another good luck kiss, you're coming down here to me."

Draco rubbed his jaw as he considered. Hermione watched him, her expression never altering, her hands relaxed on her legs. After a moment, he set his broom on the ground and stepped closer to her. He settled cross-legged in front of her, his shin guards nearly brushing her knees. Meeting her eyes, he raised one brow. "Well?"

Hermione drummed her fingers on her legs. "Lean forward," she said. "You make the first move this time."

"Are you always this bossy about a kiss?"

"I want to be sure this isn't some sort of joke to you," she said, her eyes tightening. "That I'm not going to lean in for it and you'll bolt."

"Didn't bolt from the first one," he said. "That was you." 

"Yes, well. I didn't—you're better at it than I expected," she muttered. "And I didn't think you were going to, um. With your tongue."

"Oh." Draco looked away, his cheeks heating. He hadn't intended to do that when she'd kissed him, but she'd been so soft in his arms. Her mouth had felt full and warm and he'd wanted to explore it. He'd deepened the kiss before he realized it, and if she hadn't pulled away, he'd have happily gone even further. "That," he said. "I didn't—Yeah, I won't do that again."

"No, I didn't say I didn't—that I didn't like it. Do it. If you want." 

Draco rubbed the back of his neck as his heart suddenly beat hard. He couldn't stop himself from looking at her mouth, not until he realized she was moving. She'd wriggled closer with a shift of her hips, and her knees were pressed up against his legs, her skirt rucked up slightly. He looked down through his lashes, catching a glance at the white curve of her thigh, before yanking his eyes back to her face.

He curled his hands in the grass, swallowed, and leaned in, watching her face.

Hermione tipped her head, looking from his eyes to his mouth. Her teeth caught her lower lip as she leaned forward. Draco kept his eyes open to the last second, only shutting them when Hermione's mouth touched his. 

He deliberately stopped himself from applying pressure, waiting until he felt her shift, her mouth moving against his. Draco kissed her slowly, guiding her with the tilt of his head, his hands settling on her knees. Hermione opened tentatively and he licked her bottom lip.

She grabbed his wrists, nails digging into the leather of his gauntlets, and dragged his hands up her legs as if trying to pull him closer. Her skirt rumpled under his fingers and Draco tensed, breaking the kiss. "Granger," he muttered, a little stunned by the pink flush across her cheeks and the shine on her lips. "We, er. That should be enough?"

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. For a moment, she didn't seem able to speak, then she licked her lips and nodded quickly. "Y—yes. That should, um." She snatched her hands away from him and pushed herself back, drawing her knees up to wrap her arms around them. "You'll be late for the match. Good luck, Malfoy."

Draco slowly stood and reclaimed his broom. He couldn't think of anything to say. Everything seemed too casual or awkward, after that moment, and he walked away with his broom over his shoulder.

He glanced back once to see Hermione with her cheek resting on her knees, watching him leave.

* * *

  
Art by Dralamy, posted with permission: [Original post](https://dralamys.tumblr.com/post/190166882330/slytherdor-dramione-dracomalfoy)


	3. Chapter 3

Pinching her bottom lip, Hermione stared into the window of Scrivenshaft's. The prize drawing was in five minutes and she'd put her name in six times, the maximum allowed. The selection of colored inks would be nice, as would the choice of quills from the premiere collection, but she was hoping for the grand prize: one of everything Scrivenshaft sold, from a bottle of blue glittery ink the size of her thumbnail to a mahogany writing desk.

She took a deep breath and looked away from the window as someone jostled her arm. A black cloak and green scarf met her eyes. She looked up into Draco's face, a little surprised to see him smiling at her.

"Hoping for the big one?" he said, tipping his head to the poster in the window detailing the prizes. "Think just about everyone from school put their name in."

"Did you?"

"Bought a ticket for the fun of it," he said with a shrug. "But it's all luck, yeah? Not expecting anything."

Hermione looked through the glass to see the shop clerk floating a large tombola drum onto the counter. She grabbed Draco's wrist, stopping him from moving to the door. "Kiss me," she said without looking away from the spinning drum. "For luck."

"Granger, that's—"

"You beat Ravenclaw by over a hundred points in your practice match and you caught the Snitch again. I got the Special Advisor for Elf Legislation to agree to an informational interview, which could lead to a junior assistant position after the school year." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, turning to face him. "Kiss me."

Draco looked down at her. His lashes lowered in a slow blink before he cupped the back of her head and bent to her. This time she was prepared for the heat of his mouth against hers and remembered the angle of his head. She parted her lips, unable to stop from smiling into the kiss when she felt him shiver. When his tongue brushed her lower lip and retreated, she copied him, stroking his lip with the point of her tongue. 

The sound he made sent tiny sparks all through her body, like a charm had misfired. She clutched at his hand, her thumb rubbing on his palm. Draco made that soft noise again, then slowly lifted his head. Hermione stared into his eyes, dark with dilation, and kept a grip on his hand. "Let's go," she said, her voice catching on the words. "See if we won."

Draco didn't seem able to speak. His mouth moved without any sound until he finally nodded. She led him into the shop, checked the board for the two drawings they'd missed, then stood with him to one side of the shop at the front of the crowd.

Draco stood behind her and she found herself leaning backwards, just enough to rest her shoulders against his chest. She sensed him look down at her, then his fingers touched her side. He patted awkwardly for a moment before his hand settled on her waist.

Across the shop, Lavender waved at her, looked up over her head, and looked away. 

She whipped back around to stare at Hermione, mouthing "Draco Malfoy?!" at her.

Draco didn't make any noise, but Hermione felt him shake as if he had laughed. She tipped her head back to see him smiling down at her. "Think she's jealous?" he said quietly.

"She was hoping to get Roger or Cedric," she said. "Sorry, but you weren't on her list. Try not to lose any sleep over it."

Draco snickered, his fingers moving on her waist. "I think I'll be fine. Unless Zabini has dairy at dinner and then no one will sleep."

"Careful there, Malfoy. You're giving me secrets of the Slytherin boys' dorm." Hermione grinned up at him, then turned her attention back to the tombola drum.

The clerk spun the drum, flicked his wand, and grabbed an entry ticket. "Malfoy, Draco," he called out. "Claim your prize at the end of the drawing."

Hermione squeezed Draco's hand. "Congratulations." 

Several more names were called before the final drawing. Hermione closed her eyes, held her breath, and sagged with disappointment when "Thornton, Brent" won the grand prize.

"Where were you going to put the writing desk?" Draco asked. "I don't think it would fit in your school trunk."

"I was going to think of that after I won it," she said. Sighing, she turned to him. His hand slid around her as she moved, ending up at the small of her back. Hermione hid a shiver, smoothing the edges of Draco's scarf against his cloak to distract herself from the weight of his hand. "Looks like the kiss was only half-lucky this time, though. You should go get your prize."

Draco stayed in place for a few moments, watching her fingers move on his scarf, then he cleared his throat and took a step back. "Yeah. Probably an inkwell or something."

When he went to the front of the shop, Hermione slipped out the door. Her side and shoulders tingled where he'd been touching her. She told herself it was a reaction to his soap or his detergent, and tugged the hood of her cloak up as she walked down the high street.

"Granger!" Draco shouted before she'd gone more than a couple of shops. She stopped, looking over her shoulder, and he caught up to her in long strides. His cheeks were flushed. "Granger, I—"

He shoved his hand through his hair and held a small book out to her. "Here," he said. "This was, er. I picked—that is. This was the only design they had. I'd be dumped in the lake if I brought it into the dorm so you can have it. See you," he added as he shoved the book into her hand.

He rushed away. Hermione stared after him until he disappeared into the Three Broomsticks, then glanced down. Surprising herself, she giggled. She held a leather-bound planner with a copper rampant lion on the front. "Only design they had," she said to herself. "I'll just bet, Malfoy."


	4. Chapter 4

"Granger, over here." Draco lowered his arm when Hermione spotted him across the pub, then smacked Blaise in the shin. "Put your feet down," he muttered.

Blaise rolled his eyes but lowered his feet and sat up straight, leaving the end of the bench beside Draco empty. "Surprised you didn't make me leave entirely so you could have some privacy with your Gryffindor girlfriend."

"She's not—she's not my girlfriend. She's not. We're not—" Draco sputtered to a halt as Blaise snickered at him.

"Right. She's not your girlfriend. That explains why you lit up like a firework the second you saw her. You almost knocked me out of the booth trying to get her atten—Hi, Granger," Blaise said, giving her a wide smile.

"Hi," she said, setting down a tray with three glasses of Butterbeer. "Glad I saw you, Blaise. Still had time to get another glass. You don't mind if I join you two, do you?"

Draco kicked Blaise under the table before he could answer. "No," Draco said. "He doesn't mind."

Hermione smiled and sat down beside Draco. "What were you talking about? The way Draco was smiling, it had to be something about Quidditch."

Her shoulder, hip, and thigh were touching his and for a moment Draco couldn't remember what they'd been talking about. He cleared his throat and put his arm over the back of the bench, telling himself he was making a little more room. "We were, er. Just talking about, er. About—"

"Chocolate Frog cards," Blaise said with a sigh. He gave Draco a long look and returned the under-table kick. "Malfoy here is still missing Roderick Plumpkin for the Quidditch players set. I have two. He wants to trade me, but I don't like his offer. I'm telling you, Malfoy, I'm trying to fill out the vampires. Trade me your Blodwyn Bludd."

"Then I won't have a full set!" Draco automatically replied. 

"I bought one today," Hermione said, wiping Butterbeer foam off her lip. "Haven't opened it yet. Could see what I got." She dug into her bag and pulled out the familiar blue and gold package. She set it on the table in front of Draco. "Go ahead. I only collect the famous witches, so unless it's Artemisia Lufkin or Leopoldina Smethwyck, you can have whatever's in there."

Draco took the box, stopping when Blaise made a coughing sound. "What?"

Blaise stared at them over the top of his Butterbeer. "Sure you don't want to kiss for luck first?"

Draco glanced sideways at Hermione, his brows lifting when he saw a red blush spreading across her cheeks. "All right there?" he asked quietly.

"I wasn't going to—" She sat up straighter, turning her head to look at him. "I wasn't going to suggest it. Because I still don't believe it's true, though it is _very_ coincidental that at least one of us gets something we want every time we do it. But it has to be coincidence and just coincidence, because Roger or Cedric should be having a run of good luck, too, if there was any truth to it. That's logical."

"No luck for them," Blaise said with a grin. "After you snogged Malfoy and took off, everybody was too shocked to draw another name right away, then old Sprouty knocked the jar out of my hands on her way to take care of some dirt emergency, and Cedric, Mr Helpful Hufflepuff himself, went to give her a hand or a trowel or whatever it is people use in a greenhouse. Malfoy got the only captain's kiss this year."

Hermione's blush deepened. She shifted awkwardly on the bench and Draco dropped his arm over her shoulders without thinking. "Granger," he said, rubbing her upper arm. "You don't believe in it, I don't believe in it. So we agree, it's ridiculous. We can stop. It's not like we're—"

She spun toward him, pushing up to crash their mouths together. He didn't move, too surprised to do anything but hold his breath and let her lips move over his. She'd closed her eyes and her brows were furrowed, as if she were thinking hard about the kiss. Her lids fluttered and a second later, he felt her tongue brush his mouth.

Draco squeezed her arm, pulling away slowly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Blaise watching them, looking back and forth between them. Draco gave him a warning glance when Blaise opened his mouth.

Blaise sighed heavily and slurped the last of his Butterbeer. "Well?" he muttered into the empty glass.

Draco tore open the Chocolate Frog package with one hand. The frog hopped out of the booth and under a table with three elderly witches, and Draco looked at the card back. He flashed Blaise a wide, smug smile. "Look at that," he said, flipping the card over to show the picture. "Plumpkin. I win."

Hermione hummed. "Looks like they made a mistake in the packaging process," she said, dragging the empty box over. She plucked at the bottom of it and pulled up a second card. "Lufkin." She smiled at Draco. "We both win."

"You have to be kidding me," Blaise said. He stood up and shook his head. "Thanks for the drink, Granger. See you back at the dorms, Malfoy. Don't know if you should bother coming to practice. Think you've already grabbed the Snitch."

Behind Hermione's head, Draco flicked two fingers at Blaise.


	5. Chapter 5

The clock in the dorm rang the hour. It was time to go on patrol.

Hermione blew on the ink line she'd just drawn through one of the items on her to-do list, waited a few seconds for it to finish drying, and closed the leather planner, her fingers brushing across the lion on the front before she tucked it underneath her pillow. 

She pulled on her robes, checked her wand in its pocket, and verified that her badge was fastened well before making her way downstairs to the common room. A flash of blond next to the door caught her eyes and she stopped on the bottom step to stare at Draco in his black robes and green cloak. "What are you doing here?"

"Going on patrol," he said, pushing off the wall with a cautious glance to the students playing chess nearby, who were being a little too obvious about pretending to ignore him. "Traded rounds with Milligan. Bridge patrol. He can't do it. Terrified of heights."

Hermione watched him for a moment, then lifted her chin and went to the row of hooks to grab her cloak. She draped it over her arm. "Come on, then."

She didn't get the door closed in time to avoid the sudden hubbub that followed them out of the common room. "Sorry," she muttered, her eyes firmly fixed on the corridor ahead of them and the railing of the stairs. "They're not used to seeing a Slytherin in our territory."

"I could tell," Draco said. "I knocked six times before someone actually let me in."

As they walked down the stairs, he moved closer to her, until the hem of his cloak brushed her robes with every step. "How did that informational interview go? Did you have it?" he asked.

"It's this Friday," she said. "I have special permission to miss my last class of the day so I can go to London."

"Oh."

He sounded disappointed. Hermione glanced sideways at him, but he was looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a good opportunity for me," she said sharply.

"Hmm? Oh. Yes. Yes, it would be."

Hermione stopped at the doors leading to the Clock Tower courtyard and swung her cloak over her shoulders. "Then why did you sound as if you didn't like that I got it?" 

His eyes widened. "It did, didn't it? No, Granger, that's not—congratulations, I mean. I'm glad you got the interview. You seemed really keen on it. I was just—" He licked his lips, shrugging one shoulder. "It's just. Friday. Quidditch."

She tucked her hair into her hood, knotting her brows. "What about it?"

"First match of the year," he said. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I thought, well. I'd thought, maybe."

"Thought what?" she said when he drifted to a halt. She pushed open the door and stepped out into the dim evening light. Draco followed her and the door swung shut behind him. He didn't speak again until they had walked onto the wooden bridge and lit their wands to peer into the shadows.

"I thought you might come to the match," he said quietly. "You'd sit with Gryffindor, obviously, but I was—I was looking forward to, er. I was expecting to see you there. And I figured we'd run into each other before the match."

Hermione turned to look out over the valley, lowering her wand to cast the light from it onto the bridge and not her face. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and knew she was blushing. She also knew she was smiling. "You wanted me to watch you play. And you were hoping for a good luck kiss beforehand."

Draco moved up beside her, his arm brushing her shoulder, and put his wand away. "Maybe," he said in a low voice. "But if you're going to London, you probably won't be back in time."

She leaned closer to him, just enough to press her shoulder against him, and set her hand on the stone wall next to his. She tapped her pinky on his knuckle and let it settle there. "Maybe not," she said. "But I'd already planned, if I got back that late, to come straight to the pitch. See as much of the match as I could."

Looking down through her lashes, she moved her ring finger over to rest on his hand. Then the next finger, then the next, and she stifled a breath of relief when he spread his fingers to let her slip into the spaces between them. "I do want to watch you play," she said, leaning a little harder against his arm. "And I wouldn't object to giving you a kiss before the match. I still don't believe in it, though."

"Of course not," he said, his voice carrying the hint of a laugh. "Neither do I. But I will say I've been having a pretty good year so far."

"Me too. But—" She closed her eyes, keeping her fingers loose in case he pulled away at her next words. "My friends keep asking if you're my—if we're, um. I didn't know what to say. How to define things. If they can be defined."

He was quiet, but his hand didn't move. After a few moments, he exhaled audibly. "We sit together at breakfast a couple of times a week. We walk to Hogsmeade together more than we don't. You save a spot at the study table in the library for me, even if we don't talk because we know Pince will feed us both to the books. And, er." He drummed his free hand on the stone. "And Zabini keeps leaving fliers for Puddifoot's on my bed. Lots of hints about tea for two."

Hermione covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"So I suppose what I'm saying is that we do seem to be a little more friendly than just friends."

"Not to mention the kissing," Hermione added.

This time Draco laughed aloud. He curled his hand around hers and turned towards her. "Not to mention the kissing," he repeated. "Which I'm rather enjoying. So maybe we're ... dating?"

"I don't think we can call it that until we've actually been on a date." Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. "I don't want to go to Puddifoot's, though. It's so pink. And frilly."

"Agreed. And not the Hog's Head. Would make it look like we were trying to hide something. That we didn't want to be seen."

"That leaves the Broomsticks. And that definitely means we'd be seen. By everybody."

Draco pulled their linked hands off the stone wall and tugged her around to face him. In the light of her wand, his eyes gleamed like polished steel. "Could kiss on it," he said. "Leave it to luck."

Hermione stared up at him for a few seconds, then whispered _Nox_ and tucked her wand into a pocket in her cloak. She set her free hand on Draco's shoulder, pushing onto her toes, and kissed him.

He squeezed her fingers and stepped in closer, his hand settling at her waist. He tipped his head one way; she tipped hers. They bumped noses and missed angles, but suddenly found a position that made soft whimpers escape both of them. 

Hermione's heart raced. She shook her hand loose of his grip and flung her arms around his neck; Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing the kiss deeper. She opened for him, whimpering when she felt his tongue flick across hers.

She lost track of how long they stood there, but when Draco finally lifted his head, she had to cling to him to keep from losing her balance. She rested her forehead against his chest, catching her breath, then forced herself to take a step back. "Patrol," she said hoarsely. "We need to—to finish. And get back. I have revisions, and—and. You probably do too?"

He hummed an affirmative, then carefully reached out and took her hand again. "The bridge," he said. "It's uneven. Don't want you to trip."

She started to say it was all right, that's why she cast a light charm with her wand, but stopped herself. She looked at their hands and curled her fingers around his palm.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco circled the stadium while the teams warmed up. He tried not to be obvious about slowing down when he passed the Gryffindor stands. He didn't turn his head, didn't move his eyes, but he strained his ears for one voice in the crowd.

He didn't hear her. 

Hiding a sigh, he sat back on his broom and adjusted the buckles of his gauntlets. The Slytherins were a sea of green and silver; Gryffindor's gold and red moved like flames. The rest of the spectators were the usual mix of Hogwarts faculty and staff, villagers from Hogsmeade, and parents of players.

Draco skimmed the crowd absently, looking past one woman in a pale blue and pink dress, who was waving her hand at the sky. It took him several seconds to realize she was waving at him, and several more to realize who was waving.

He snapped his broom down, aiming straight at the platform between two stands, and hovered in front of her, unable to stop himself from smiling. "Hermione," he said, tipping his broom back until he stood on the footpegs. "You made it. How did it go?"

"She had to cut our interview short. I got back as fast as I could." She took a step closer to the edge of the platform. "Other than that, it went well. Really well. I'll tell you all about it later." 

She smiled at him, one hand stretching out. "Quick. Before they blow the whistle." 

For a moment, he didn't catch her meaning, then he grinned. "My luck." Draco leaned away from the broom with one hand around the shaft and put his arm around her. He tugged her close, fingers spreading across her back.

Hermione wrapped one hand in the front of his robes and kissed him. She kept it light and quick, pulling away far too soon for his liking. "Good luck," she said, patting the seven on his jersey. "Grab the Snitch for me, Draco."

Draco gave her a wink. He flew up to his position, watching as Hermione took a seat at the very edge of the Gryffindor stand. 

She gave another wave to him, then opened her bag and pulled out a dark green scarf. It wasn't a Slytherin scarf, not officially, but it was a perfect color match. She draped it over her shoulders and crossed her legs, fingers locked around her knee.

The whistle blew.

Draco snapped his head around, scanning for the Snitch. A fluttering hint of gold in the bright sky was hard to find, and it took him several minutes to spot it hovering well above the Gryffindor goalhoops. A heartbeat later, he was after it. 

McLaggen shouted from his position. One of the Gryffindor Beaters broke formation and sped across Draco's flightpath. He dove to avoid a collision and when he recovered, the Snitch had vanished.

Swearing under his breath, Draco turned in the air. Beaters and Chasers whipped around the pitch in dizzying patterns. He split his attention, scanning for the Snitch and watching his teammates as they implemented the tactics he designed to take advantage of their strengths. Zabini's manueverability made him an excellent Chaser; Goyle's impressive arm smashed Bludgers halfway across the pitch. 

Glint of gold, fluttering wings. Draco shot forward.

The match went on for nearly an hour, goals scored and fouls missed. Draco shouted encouragement and plays to his team, exhilarated with every point. 

The Slytherin Chasers bunched up into the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, with Zabini holding the Quaffle. Gryffindor's Chasers followed close behind. Zabini called a command and the three Slytherins broke apart, up and over in a loop. Zabini's jersey smacked one of the Gryffindor Chasers in the face, knocking her into a jittering flight to collide with her teammate. 

Slytherin closed their loop. Zabini threw the Quaffle.

Ten points to Slytherin, tying the score for the fifth time.

Bent low over his broom as he chased the Snitch, Draco grinned. 

Gryffindor's Seeker was a broom-length behind him, catching up inch by inch. Draco locked his toes in the foot pegs and slid forward, his hands extending past the end of his broom. He stretched for the Snitch, stretched until his shoulder and elbow shrieked at him. The golden wings brushed his fingertips.

A scream of warning from the crowd below was a second too late. A rogue bludger slammed into the bristles of the Gryffindor Seeker's broom. Her shoulder rammed Draco's heel, knocking him loose from his broom. 

Everything whirled around him. Gold snitch, blue sky, red and green jerseys, a whirl of color as he spun out of control. Gold, blue, green. 

Black.

He woke in the infirmary with a screaming headache. It hurt to raise his eyelids and he sucked in air to make the effort.

"He's awake, he's awake! Madam Pomfrey, he's—"

"I heard you the first time, Miss Granger. Back with us, Mister Malfoy? Well done."

Draco opened his eyes with a quiet groan. The entire world seemed blurry, as if he were still spinning toward the ground. Even Pomfrey's crisp uniform had soft edges. Hermione sat beside him, both hands locked around one of his, her lower lip showing marks where she'd bitten it repeatedly. Her lashes were spiked and stuck together, the green scarf around her neck looking damp beneath her chin.

"Wha'hap," Draco muttered.

Pomfrey measured a thick and syrupy potion into a small cup. "Cracked your skull, and count yourself lucky you didn't crack it straight open. You'll be staying overnight. But now that you're awake, drink this and try to relax."

Once she'd helped him to drink the medicine and had strode off to the next closed curtain, Draco glanced down at his hands. Hermione had a firm grasp on his left, and his right was tightly curled. His knuckles were bloodless white from his grip. "Sni?"

"You caught it," Hermione said quietly. "You grabbed it right before you fell. Slytherin won, 320 to 170. You still have it. We couldn't get your hand to open."

He lifted his right hand, staring at it blearily. He knew he was ordering his fingers to uncurl, but they didn't want to move. 

Hermione caught his wrist and drew his hand over. "You won, Draco," she said. She gently kissed his knuckles before stretching up to touch her lips to the arch of his cheek. "You can let go now." 

Draco turned his head, catching her mouth. The Snitch fell.

* * *

  
Art by Dralamy, posted with permission: [Original post](https://dralamys.tumblr.com/post/619697767515914240/for-luck-i-took-the-background-from-an)


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione leaned against Draco's side, his Quidditch robes spread around her like a cloak. "It's been five minutes," she said, grinning at the red and gold scarf around his neck. "You haven't burst into flames yet. I was right."

Laughing, Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Fine. I _can_ wear Gryffindor colors and not die on the spot. I still say you look much better in green than I do in red."

She rested her head on his chest. His jumper was a thick, heavy cotton, but even through it, she could feel the heat of his body. His heartbeat was strong and a little fast. So was hers, she admitted. 

More than a little. After his practice, they had flown up one of the hills overlooking the school, Draco holding her on the broom with one hand around her waist. She closed her eyes and let herself remember how it had felt to fly with him: his thighs pressed against hers, his chin on her shoulder. She could still feel the heat of the reassuring kiss he'd touched to the hollow beneath her ear when a stray wind pushed them off-path and she'd yelped, clutching at his arm.

She drew her knees up, folding her arms across them to surreptitiously push her hand against her heart and feel the rapid pound of her pulse. 

Draco shifted and tugged her in closer. "Cold, Granger?" he asked. "We can go back in."

"No," she said. "Not yet. Lav's going to ask me another dozen times what I'm wearing to the Yule Ball and I'm tired of telling her that I don't even know if I'm going."

Draco's fingers twitched on her arm, a quick squeeze as if he'd been startled. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, his breath stirring her hair. "Oh. Don't like to dance, then? Or maybe you don't like music."

"I love dancing. And the Weird Sisters aren't my favorite but I know lots of people like them and the Headmistress put a lot of effort into getting them to play for us." She smoothed her skirt over her knees. "I don't want to go alone, that's all."

Draco was quiet for a few seconds, then he rubbed her arm. When he spoke, his voice was soft and tentative. "I thought, er. I thought we were going. Together."

"You didn't ask. And I wasn't going to assume."

"Oh," he said again. He laughed under his breath, the sound a deep rumble beneath her ear. "Then I owe my mum an apology. She told me three times that I did have to actually ask, if I was going to be a gentleman about it. Kept telling her it wasn't necessary, because it was obvious you were going with me, being my girlfriend and all."

"Technically, we've been dating for over a month, but you never asked me to be your girlfriend."

"Shit," he muttered after a beat. "I didn't, did I?"

Hermione snickered, turning in the circle of his arm to smile up at him. "It's all right. I'll let that one go. I'm your girlfriend."

Draco set his hand on her jaw and she went still. "Let's make it official," he said. 

He kissed her, mouth warm against hers. His fingers slid back to cradle her neck, his tongue slipped across her bottom lip, and he made a sound that sent her heart into triple time. 

She parted her lips for him, her knees falling across his outstretched legs. Clinging to his jumper, she returned his kiss with a fervor she didn't expect from herself. Her senses narrowed to the thrum of her heartbeat in her ears and the heat of his hand on her thigh.

It was so, _so_ tempting to go further. She wanted to push him back into the grass and stretch out beside him, to slide her hand under his jumper and touch his skin. She shoved her fingers into his hair to stop herself, holding him in place until she _had_ to break away, panting for breath into her scarf still draped around his neck.

It took them both a minute to recover, breathing hard and clinging to each other. She locked her arms around his waist; he held her shoulders, leaning back on his free hand. 

Draco took a deep breath and let it out with a quiet cough. "That was—right. That was—" His voice was rough, even deeper than usual. 

"That definitely made it official," she said, flicking the ends of the scarf he wore. She tugged his robes around to cover her legs as she curled closer to him. "No question about it."

He hummed deep in his throat. "Speaking of questions. What color is your dress? Need to know. For a corsage."

She couldn't help herself. She laughed, gathering her breath to look up at his grey eyes, gleaming as bright as the moon overhead. "You _still_ haven't actually asked me, Draco."

His eyes widened for a moment, then he grinned and kissed her forehead. "Start writing these things down for me. Clearly I need a list to keep track of the proper way to treat my girlfriend. Hermione Granger, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

She settled down against him, listening to his heartbeat, and closed her eyes. "Yes. And I'll be wearing blue."

* * *

  
  
Art by Dralamy, posted with permission: [Original post](https://dralamys.tumblr.com/post/622386517750497281/fireflies-night-it-was-thanks-for-your)


	8. Chapter 8

The band took a break and Draco led Hermione off the dance floor. "Punch?" he asked, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. "I think there's Butterbeer, if you'd rather have that."

Hermione patted gently at the spray of tiny winter flowers that decorated her hair. "Actually," she said. "I don't want a drink. I want—No? Never mind."

Draco knotted his brows. He drew her off to the side, into a quieter spot behind a tall pillar. "What is it? Are you not enjoying yourself?"

She shook her head. "No. No, Draco, it's been—" She smiled up at him, both hands sliding over his shoulders to lock behind his neck. "It's been an amazing night. You look so handsome and you're a better dancer than I expected."

He laughed under his breath. "I'll tell Monsieur Guillaume that his tutoring paid off." Settling his hands on her waist, he tugged her closer, until she rested her head on his shoulder. "Then what is it?"

She was silent for a few moments, then she cleared her throat. He looked down through his lashes to see that a brilliant blush had spread across her face, turning her ears pink. She'd closed her eyes and her words were barely audible. 

"No. No, it's silly. I was hoping—" She lifted her head to look at him. "I want to go out for a sleigh ride," she said in a rush.

Draco was almost certain that wasn't what she'd intended to say. "Sleigh ride? Now? But they're going to do the crowning charm in a few minutes. Thought you'd want to queue up, see if we—"

"Now," she said, her blush turning deeper. "Sleigh ride."

He lifted a brow but didn't question her. Looping her arm through his, he led her out of the hall and into the courtyard, where white horses stood in harness. He helped Hermione up into one of the sleighs and tucked a thick fur blanket around her. The open sleigh was charmed for warmth, but he put his arm around her shoulders regardless. 

The horses needed no guidance, starting at a slow walk until they were past the castle gardens. They picked up speed, heading for a path around the lake. Hermione leaned against Draco, her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she said. 

"Anything you want, Hermione." He took her hand, lacing his fingers between hers, and held her close to his side.

It started to snow as the horses went to a trot, big fluffy flakes that veered away from the sleigh each time they swirled closer. 

Hermione made a disgruntled sound. "Stop that," she said, tapping the side of the sleigh. "I'm trying to catch one."

Draco grinned, watching as she tipped her head back and held out her tongue. The snowflakes avoided the sleigh again and he laughed. Leaning forward, he pressed a small lever hidden under the seat. The warding charm sparkled as a brilliant blue globe surrounding then, then faded. Snow immediately started landing inside the sleigh.

Hermione gave a delighted laugh and stuck her tongue out, head weaving slightly to catch a flake. She caught more than a dozen as they made the circuit around the lake, each one making her smile widen. 

Draco reactivated the charm, brushing snow out of his hair. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What you were actually going to say at the ball. Before you changed your mind."

She blushed. "Oh. No, I don't—never mind, Draco."

"Come on. I promise, I won't think it's silly."

"It is, for a girl like me."

"What do you mean?"

"Books and cleverness," she said quietly. "I'm the studious one. Always in the library, top marks in every class. I'm not—" She held his hand in both of hers, stroking his knuckles and his signet ring. 

The horses turned away from the lake, heading back to the school, their hoofbeats muffled by the fresh snow. 

"I'm not the sort that gets voted Yule Queen," Hermione continued after a moment. "That goes to other people. Tall, blond, athletic, popular."

"You know that describes me," Draco said. "Maybe I'll get Yule Queen. Bet Zabini voted for me."

She laughed. "It was just a little fantasy," she said as they pulled up in the courtyard. "A Christmas wish. I wanted to go for a sleigh ride so I didn't have to watch someone else get crowned and feel disappointed over something that was really not going to happen anyway."

"Not too late." Draco nodded at the open doors and the students gathered beneath the delicate silver crowns floating over the entrance to the school. "Looks like the crowning got delayed. You still have a chance. We could see. Unless you want to go in another door and not risk it."

Hermione bit her lip. She looked at the crowns and back to him. "I still don't believe in it," she said tentatively as he helped her out of the sleigh. "But—"

There was a wistful hope in her eyes.

Draco smiled and pulled her into the circle of his arms. He leaned down and kissed her, a brush of lips as light as the snowflakes drifting around them. "Good luck, Hermione."

As they passed through the doors at the rear of a small group of students, the silver crowns dropped. Draco felt the weight of one settle on his head. He quickly turned to look at Hermione.

Her dark curls were topped with a crown. In the light streaming from the hall, her eyes glittered brighter than the gleaming silver.

The Yule Queen and King walked into the ball, hands linked tight.


End file.
